Power Play
by tromana
Summary: Politics. It’s all just a power play, really. 8/Romana II


**Title:** Power Play  
**Author:** tromana  
**Rating:** R  
**Characters:** Eighth Doctor/Romana II  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Summary:** Politics. It's all just a power play, really. 8/Romana II  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Doctor Who. Never have, never will.  
**Notes: ****Allusions towards sex, but nothing in detail.**

**Power Play**

A TARDIS grated into existence, altogether far too close for comfort to the Presidential quarters. Said President, Romanadvoratrelundar, merely sighed. The place would soon be swarming with Chancellery Guard. And Narvin, no doubt. It was always the way. The Doctor would grant an unexpected visit, and swarms of officials would try to crowd in.

"Go tell your Master I've almost finished and will grant audience with him once I've completed my paperwork."

"You're never 'almost finished', Romana."

Romana glanced up to see the Doctor staring down at her, with K9 at his feet. He took hold of her wrist, firmly enough to stop her from working, gently enough not to hurt. It was positively criminal for a renegade like him to be touching her.

She stood to stare him squarely in the eyes, moved around her desk to stand directly in front of him and opened her mouth to address him. He silenced her, the only way he knew how. Lips and minds collided and the Lady President fought for control.

"This place is bleeding you dry," the Doctor gasped, "come away with me. Please."

"I can't." Romana straightened her robes and brushed him aside. "As you said yourself, I'm never finished."

"But why?"

The Doctor circled her, like a predator circling its prey. She never let her eyes leave him as he paced around her slowly; K9 withdrawing slowly. Both remained mute, a battle of wills, until he approached her and placed a hand gently on her cheek.

"Don't." Her tone was forceful, but he wasn't entirely sure she meant it.

"Why not?"

She snorted and returned to her desk, and growing piles of paperwork. She didn't have time for the Doctor and his petty games; she hadn't for a long while now. Snaking an arm around her waist, he turned her around to face him once more.

"You shouldn't… you should leave… the Chancellery Guard…"

"I shouldn't what Romana?" There was an aggression in this regeneration she was not familiar with. "Try and persuade you to leave? Or this?"

He placed a kiss on her lips again, aggressively. He held onto her tightly, refusing to let her go. He had hold of her wrists again and she wriggled furiously, annoyed that she was not the one determining the course of actions for a change. The Doctor quickly discarded her head-dress and was soon placing feather-light kisses along her collarbone. Romana moaned slightly, before regaining control of herself and her emotions.

"No," she whispered, quite hoarsely, "it belongs in the past."

"Why's that?"

"A President cannot have friends."

"Who said anything about being friends?"  
"Mm."

Her lips crashed against his once more in response and they soon divested one another of clothing. What came next was a fierce, passionate affair. Such was their personalities; it often leads to a power struggle.

A few hours later, they sat exhausted, sated, Romana nestled in his arms, listening to his heartbeats and playing with a curl of his shoulder-length dark hair. Romana privately questioned their privacy; surely Narvin at least should be banging down the door? He was never one to miss out on an opportunity to belittle the Doctor. Never mind remind them that he shouldn't be here, his crimes could easily amass to a vaporisation if the Lady President had any sense…

"You're shivering," the Doctor noted.

Romana had never quite gained all the weight lost during her time on Etra Prime. Her body was decorated with scars, memories of it. She smiled at him slightly before standing and gracing him with that pitying look of hers.

"Your skills of observation never cease to amaze me," she replied dryly.

Nevertheless, she dressed quickly and efficiently which encouraged the Doctor to do the same. The affair was carried out in silence, neither quite knowing what to say to each other. It hadn't been the first time it had happened, although maybe it had been since his regeneration and her rise to Presidency, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Brushing her hair carefully, she replaced the head-dress that had been so carelessly tossed aside earlier.

"That is a horrible weight on your shoulders."

"It's something that needs to be done."

"You shouldn't have to sacrifice yourself for Gallifrey." He shivered at the thought.

"I haven't."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Romana."

"The correct term of address is Madam President," she snapped.

The Doctor headed to the door and petted K9 goodbye, quietly thanking him for allowing them to be undisturbed.

"I will come back, Romana."

"I don't doubt it," she sighed. "Goodbye, Doctor."

She listened until the TARDIS had gone, before returning to her work. Maybe she did give a little too much of herself to Gallifrey – sometimes – but someone had to change them. Didn't they?


End file.
